


We Can Burn Brighter Than The Sun

by notthebigspoon



Series: Mystery in the Making [4]
Category: Baseball RPF, White Collar
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-11
Updated: 2012-07-11
Packaged: 2017-11-09 16:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/457469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notthebigspoon/pseuds/notthebigspoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim has been piling up losses, professional and personal. He feels like he can't escape from his own insecurities. Turns out all he needed was for his heart to come home.</p><p>Title taken from We Are Young by Fun.</p><p>Taken down and reposted for edits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Can Burn Brighter Than The Sun

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably apologize for varying aspects of this story but I won't. Nope.

Tim feels like he's walking in a dream, has from the second he stepped foot onto the field for batting practice. The fans are filtering in and he stops to sign a few things. He glances back now and again, mostly at Sanchez, and smiles at the fans. He gives them what they want but he's not there with them, not exactly. He feels a million miles away. Because the first person to hand him a ball was Neal fucking Caffrey, who smiled and melted away into the crowd the moment Tim placed the signed ball in his hand.

The game feels fuzzy, initially. He wants so badly to beat this thing, to shove that self doubt where the sun don't shine and just play but he _can't_. He feels like he's sinking and he feels like everyone else can feel it too and when he finally goes back into the dugout, he feels like throwing something, screaming. 

As he's wont to do, Vogey seems to save the day just by being in the right place at the right time. He looks bemused when Tim croaks out his name but sits down next to him, big hand planting itself on Tim's back and rubbing.

Tim vents, pours everything out about how angry he is. He'd had such high hopes, had shown up high and giddy and believing that he could do this and that they were going home that night with the Dodgers in a fucking dustpan. It's not just the exertion of the game that makes his cheeks flush, he's worked himself up to the point where the wrong word might make him burst into tears. And that's _wrong_ , this shouldn't be happening, not to him.

“Stop thinking about him.”

Tim startles, glancing up at Vogelsong for a brief moment. “What-? _How_?”

“Saw you when you were signing. Kind of put two and two together.”

“How'd you even know in the first place? I only told Posey and Sandoval.”

“The look on your face. I could just tell. Last time I saw two people look at each other like that, it was Sanchez and Whitey.” Ryan smiles a little. “I know you want to impress him. But think about it. What should you do? What have you told every guy you've ever dated?”

“The game comes first. Always has, always will.” Tim says slowly. “And... and he was the first to get it.”

“Then use that. Stay angry. I know you're mad at yourself, use that. Prove to yourself that you can do this with or without him.”

When he walks back onto the field, that's exactly what Tim does.

***

Tim doesn't want to do the reporter thing after the game. He showers and tries to address the questions gracefully, eyes flitting about and scanning the people milling about the locker room even though he knows that there's no chance in hell Neal would risk being seen here. The field was alright but the locker room is different. He wouldn't jeopardize Tim's career or relationship with (some of) his teammates, both of which could happen because sometimes Tim had really poor impulse control when it came to Nick, now Neal.

Pablo squeezes his shoulder, eyes bright with mirth, and leans in to whisper, “Vogey told me what was going on. I am happy for you, so is Bengie.”

“You told Bengie?!”

“Yes, sort of. Well, I kind of told Yadi and then Yadi told Bengie. He's very disappointed in you for not telling him yourself, by the way.”

Tim really doesn't want to think about the implications of how many people know about his less than legal love life so he doesn't dignify it with a response, just palms Pablo's face and pushes him away with a laugh. Because he finally won one and Neal is out there somewhere waiting to be with him again. Fuck the lies and legalities. He doesn't ask for much, the one thing he's ever asked the universe for is somebody to love and he's going to take it now that it's here.

Because Tim's car is shot, he catches a ride home from the game with Pablo. His mind is split between replaying seeing Neal while he was signing and the game itself. Pablo is occupied with his next prank, leaving the drive a comfortably quiet one. Other than an uncertainty about whether or not he's the Panda's next victim, he's feeling pretty good.

Pablo's headlights flash across the house as he pulls into the drive, illuminating someone sitting on the front steps. Tim's heart seizes. Neal. Pablo picks up on his sudden tension.

“Do we need to call somebody?”

“No! No.” Tim swallows hard, grabbing his bag and opening the door. "It's cool. Just wasn't expecting him. Thanks Pablo.”

He doesn't wait for or hear an answer. All his attention is on the man in front of him. Neal is standing on the top step, an uncertain smile on his face. Tim gestures wordlessly at the door, hands shaking as he unlocks it. They can't do this outside.

Cy is scrambling towards him when the door opens, barking with joy. He shoots right past Tim and launches himself at Neal. Traitor. Tim drops his bag and goes to the kitchen. He grabs himself a soda and a bottle of water for Neal. When he reaches the living room, Neal is already on the couch, Cy snoozing on his lap.

“You gonna add my dog's love to the list of things you've stolen? Not as impressive as the Raphael...”

“You know about the Raphael?”

“I visited June while the team was in New York. Nice lady.”

Neal looks both surprised and delighted. “She's fantastic, isn't she?”

“In a class of her own.” Tim smiles. It have been very easy to love June. “She told me a lot of stories about you. Neal Caffrey, dog walker extraordinaire.”

“I miss Bugsy. I... miss a lot of things.”

“New York?”

“Sometimes, yes. But I miss you more.”

Tim laughs, shaky and breathless. “You have a shit sense of timing, Caffrey.”

He really does. Showing up right before a game in which Tim would be pitching, and probably knowing that Tim had been in a slump. Some part of him wonders if this is deliberate. Neal answers the question without being asked.

“I knew you were playing tonight.”

“And you showed up anyway, knowing it could affect the game.”

Neal looks stricken for a moment before his eyes take on a steely look. He swears under his breath and before Tim can really think about it, Neal's lips are crushed against his own and those talented hands are in his hair. Neal had had a thing for Tim's hair and damn if Tim hasn't missed it. For a few brief moments, it's like nothing ever changed. There's nothing but that crazy 'can't get enough of you' desperation.

They're sprawling on the couch, Tim on his back and Neal spread over him when Tim shakes his head, panting as he plants a hand on Neal's chest and pushes him away.

“No. We can't. How would... Neal, how would we ever manage this when you're wanted by the _federal government_?”

“I don't know.” Neal admits, and that's an honest answer that Tim wasn't expecting. There's none of Neal's usual flippancy in his tone or expression. “It'll be hard. Peter's going to be on me hard and well, you're not exactly nobody. If we're seen together by the wrong people or someone gets a picture? It could be bad for you. It'd definitely be bad for me.”

Tim really thinks that his heart should be sinking like a stone. The uplifted, hopeful flutter is odd and somewhat cartoonish. He starts laughing. “This... this is the craziest thing I've ever done and I don't even care.”

Those blue eyes sparkle the same way they did when they made Tim fall in love and Neal settles back into place, hands running over Tim's sides as their lips press together quick and fierce. He doesn't say anything but he doesn't need to. The kiss says everything.

_I love you, I need you, I want you, we can do this._

***

When he makes it to the clubhouse the next day, Tim has a bruise at the base of his neck that's covered by a puka shell necklace that Neal had given him the night before, along with a host of cheesy jewelry and knick knacks he'd collected while waiting for Tim to come around. He's smiling bright and sunny, hasn't been able to stop since he woke up with his face buried in Neal's chest and their fingers loosely laced together.

“You look so happy.”

Tim looks over his shoulder, blinking in surprise at Melky. He's friendly with the guy but they don't talk much, mostly due to the language barrier. He's not sure what this is about but he's certainly not going to reject it, though his shoulders go up when Melky's hand comes down on his shoulder, squeezing.

“Happy. I'm happy you're happy.”

That's been the tone this year. They're doing well and they're having fun and everyone has such a vested interest in everyone else's happiness. So Tim just gives Melky a smile but he can't help the eyebrow quirk. Melky seems to pick up on it and he doesn't exactly blush but he ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He seems to be searching for the words.

“Ah..” He looks around, lowering his voice but managing to look proud of himself all the same. “Pillow talk, si?”

Tim chokes. “With _who_?”

Melky jerks his head to the side and Tim follows his line of sight, jaw dropping when his gaze stops. Vogey. He beams. “I'm happy too.”


End file.
